


Inquisitors

by Sukila



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All relationships are only briefly referenced, Dwarven Carta (Dragon Age), F/F, F/M, Formerly Tranquil Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Inquisitor Backstory, Lavellan is bad at common, Qun, Qunari Culture and Customs, Qunlat, Rite of Tranquility, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukila/pseuds/Sukila
Summary: Every Inquistor has a story, sometimes more complicated than a simple rundown can portray, these are unique backstories/backstory moments for each brand of Herald, from the 'sort of canon-conforming' to 'wayyyy different.'Adaar- A mage that's getting scared of herself and her powerful gifts.Cadash- A Carta member that's been manipulated but has no choice but to follow.Lavellan- A former convert to the Qun that misses the old ways she didn't choose to leave behind.Trevelyan- An obedient mage turned Tranquil that regains her emotions with the anchor, and an even stranger new power.(Forgot to mention it but, the last one is partially inspired by Tales of Inquisitor Bob, make sure to check it out!)





	1. Talan-raas Adaar

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tales of Inquisitor Bob](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141996) by [lazbobthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazbobthing/pseuds/lazbobthing). 



Talan-raas, at the moment, wanted to die. Why? Because Josephine had once asked her a question about what she thought of the Qun and she'd just said it was something she knew quite a bit about. It was months later before they returned to the discussion and by then Talan-raas had forgotten that their resident ambassador had read into the practice and was no longer a good person to unload hidden feelings onto; like a temporarily deaf person suddenly regaining their hearing just as you tell them you once considered jumping off a cliff to save your favourite sheath (the look she’d gotten was horrible). It hadn't even occurred to the Qunari mage that she knew what joining meant for someone like her and it soon transformed from an old chat subject that had left the woman begging her to not be outwardly about her intrigue; it _had_ only been the very beginning of the Inquisition after all. Now she was sitting in her loft and regretting the openness she'd always had with her friends and attempting to rein in her distaste for Solas outting her right after they’d met (though if she was honest, someone was going to find out eventually considering she’d woken up in new clothes).

 

Valo-Kas just hadn't been fulfilling to her and left her without any real thought when it came to her purpose besides to being present as Arvaarad breathed down her and the others’ necks. Depression had loomed over her and held fast like chains, choking out any and all attempts at conversation as she didn't move away, instead simply ignoring what was around her in favour of watching the sea. They'd moved away from the cliffs after that but it had only made it worse, she didn't talk and felt tired often but was always refused easy slumber; spending most nights just sitting in silence as she watched the others breath and snore within or just outside their shared tent. The fun was leached out of any and all tasks, bridges blowing up without her even stopping to look as she once had with a marvelled gaze that appeared without fail at every occasion. If interventions had a smell as they were brewing then it would be permeating throughout the camp as they set it up; they were just a day’s walk from their next job at the Conclave and, ironically enough, the worst time in recent history; though for Talan-raas that night was her worst time. As it turns out, sleep deprivation and prolonged disuse of one’s magic was not a good combination as that night she'd been awoken by the heat of her own body and a terrible bile in her throat.

 

Talan-raas had sat that night out of the tent, throwing up suspiciously hot fluids into a bucket and keeping up quite a few with her wet coughs and the implication of a wakeful mage. Arvaarad had sat with her that night in a show of trust to the other mages, but a show of reassurance to her; he'd noticed her recent behaviour and simply waited for her to talk; which she did, albeit slowly and with many rasping breaths in between.

 

“The others are scared of me,” Her companion nodded, knowing that lies would do her no good, nor would interjecting with the people that were proved false to that statement, “...I'm scared of me.” She whimpered before pulling back her long hair (which was held up by Arvaarad), and giving the bucket another go.

 

“I don't know what's wrong with me, it just feels like- Guh... Like everything's falling apart; I'm not happy anymore, and I don't know why and it's just too much to ignore!” She whispered, voice wavering as her volume increased, “I'm losing control, and- I'm afraid…”

 

“That is why I am here, imekari.” He says in a calm tone, slowly prying Talan-raas’s hands from her throat, and holding them in his palms.

 

“I'm just tired...tired of everything. Of dreaming, of demons, and...feeling like I'm a risk.”

 

“They tempt you-?”

 

“No! No. It's just- whispers...little words that wear you down, they're meant to hurt, and they do, and I want, so badly, to feel calm _and_ safe; not one or the other.”

 

“Is that why you were curious of Tranquil, and Saarebas?”

 

“I was desperate, the others can't understand...not even the other mages.”

 

“That is correct, they are unlike you. You have more to hold, and do not release enough.” He pauses, “It is fire.” She nods solemnly and he does in turn, they both know what it means and that it would not be easily reined in; she was a danger, one the others would fear if they knew of. Even now Talan-raas’s skin seemed to glow with a soft candle light, brow letting out beads of sweat as heat radiated from her skin; it was no wonder she spent so much time by the shore, but insisted on staying far from the water.

 

“Imekari.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Is there another weapon you'd like to learn?”

 

“I suppose something with a better blade could be nice...where were you going with this?”

 

“Just come up with a weapon.”

 

“If I ever replaced my staff I'd want something longer, I suppose. Maybe a curved blade like a scythe!”

 

**_Snap!_ **

 

She'd looked over in horror to see her staff was in pieces with the crystal crushed into powder the blowing away with the wind from beneath his foot. She said nothing, mouth merely hanging open in shock as he chucked the pieces of wood into the sea, turned on his heel, and left without another word. Talan-raas had never remembered a time that she'd ever been that angry, the record stuck firmly to that very day. A week later he'd taken the stick she'd been using as a substitute and chucked it into the sea as well (though she was sure that was just for his own amusement) as he handed her a few new toys. A scythe, some short blades the resembled one called katas, and a bunch of runes, she looked over them in confused bemusement before she felt a weight on her neck and heard the subtle sound of a clasp. Talan-raas had looked back with a questioning gaze, only to meet the smug smile of her watcher.

 

“That should help, imekari.” He said simply before walking away as she ran her hand over the collar in confusion, both at his lack of supervision and whatever he’d just attached to her. By nightfall she knew what it did and how freezing she felt as she lay tucked into her friend’s side, whispering her thanks as she slept soundly inside the tent for the first time in years. The smile shone through on her face even now as she lay on the loft with her fingers touched the material and her body stayed cool. Talan-raas sighed, stretching as she finally got up from her perch and settled in for a long lecture as she grudgingly made the trip downstairs but smiled regardless at the nice memories that she would share; one hand holding the other to keep from pulling up at her shirt out of habit to hide the collar.


	2. Nuula Faye "Ace" Cadash

“You were apart of the Carta, yes? What was your role?”

 

-

 

“Hey, kid! Little birdy told me you’ve heard too much.” The woman called, grabbing Nuula Faye by her hair and pulling harshly, “You want your siblings to keep living?” She nodded harshly as the woman harshly responded, “Then you better quit struggling.” She did as she was told and by the day’s end she’d been blackmailed and blacklisted, face tattooed with a green mark over her eyes as she was told to never return.

 

“Ace, move your ass, we gotta go!” The woman in question lept from the tree, quickly slipping the bow in hand onto her back and waving the others forward as they fled from a job gone wrong. Fire was everywhere, mages were still actively attacking as they made their retreat, goods still in hand but no money in their pockets. The boss they came back to was rightfully pissed at falling for the trap as she beckoned forward her best shot and promptly retreated to her tent.

 

“I put you in charge for what-! A day?!” Ace bowed her head in submission, the angered woman putting her hand to the bridge of her nose in exasperation, “You told me you had nowhere to go, you’re a good leader. I just don’t get it, why can’t you act like it in battle instead of just listening to whoever is the loudest?! No one is gonna respect you if things go on like this, you know that, Ace.” She waited in silence for a response, only growing more enraged as none came, “Well?!”

 

“Old habits die hard, that’s all I can give you, captain.”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Just call me Lani, Lantos if you _really_ have to, I’m sick of this ‘captain’ crap. You sound like a bloody Orlesian.” She sighed for a moment, “Just tell me about it, please. At least then you’ll have it off your chest, maybe feel a bit better, yeah?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly brought here on my own terms, all right?! I didn’t ask for this _fucking_ life, or to be treated seven different ways by seven different people and just get left confused, okay?!” She shouted, throwing down her hands and her face growing red, “I also didn’t ask to work with the fucking company that killed my damn siblings, and got me _exiled_ from the only home I ever knew!”

 

“...What?”

 

“The Carta took me from my home, blackmailed me to work for them by threatening by younger brother and sister, and-! ...and killed them anyway.” She stated, anger fading into a more somber look, “What was I supposed to do after that? Leave? I had nowhere to go, a mark on my face, and the skillset of a _servant.”_

 

“They didn’t make you an agent?” Lani asked in shock, gaze already shifting to one of empathy.

 

 _“No._ I was their _slave.”_ She said bitterly before feeling the hand on her arm and looking down in sadness, “And what did I get for all my ‘obedience?’ The news that my family had been dead for three years, and I couldn’t do a thing about it besides refuse any orders until I ended up here.”

 

“Nuula Faye...I’m sorry, I wish I could have-”

 

“No, it’s okay, you were kind to me, that’s all I could’ve asked for.” She said, smiling as her leader drew her into her arms.

 

“You know something?” She whispered.

 

“What?” Ace humoured her.

 

“I have a job for you, if you still want it, it’d get you away for awhile too; maybe give you some space to mourn? I know you’re Andrastian, no wonder, needed something to get through that bloody ordeal...”

 

“I’d like that, Lani.”

 

-

 

“Just served as muscle, maybe I’ll tell you the whole story someday, beautiful.”

 

“Oh my…”


	3. Lilivona "Tamassran" Lavellan

Lilivona could hear the remarks, she wasn’t deaf.

 

“How can a little thing like her wield such a big weapon?” She’d just respond with brooding silence, crossing her arms and looking back with a sharp glare that silenced any opposition.

 

The Iron Bull had asked once, albeit in a much funnier way so as to ward away impoliteness that often brought on her wrath, to which she’d simply looked him up to down and said, “Not the only big thing I can wield with skill.” He’d looked dumbfounded for a moment (as well as her traveling companions) before letting out loud laugh as his lieutenant snicked in passing.

 

Not long after she was readily taking on a dragon with him by her side as they both relished in the great victory before she bellowed, (“Ataash varin kata (In the end lies glory)!”) A wide smile and closed eyes distracting her from the calculating gaze even as they left the Hinterlands and celebrated in the Herald’s Rest back at Skyhold. As it turned out, she was a chatty drunk, though only to those who could understand; she was rattling off in more Qunlat most had ever heard in their lives as she smiled and pranced around making unknown comments to all she passed. Most were simply amused at the antics of the vallaslin-covered elf as she seemed much less gruff than usual, instead seemingly having fun for the first time outside of battle.

 

“So, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

 

(“Is that even a question? We took down a _fucking_ ataashi (Dragon)!”)

 

“And now you’re drunk enough to be speaking another language fluently, huh?”

 

(“Viddasala must be rolling in her damn grave, some Tamassran I turned out to be.”)

 

“You were a priestess then?” He asked in surprise.

 

(“The look on your face! Ha! Yeah, many imekari (Children) to keep charge of but I’d say they turned out pretty fine under me...real shame I’ll never see them again…”) Her frown turned up and into a smile, (“But hey! Maybe we can talk when I’m less drunk, yeah? You are _very_ distracting.”)

 

“Count on it, boss.”

 

-

 

Lilivona had nursed her headache for awhile but she was no coward, nor one that was prone to post-drinking memory loss. Probably why she was headed in the direction of their resident Ben-Hassrath with a pretty serious face.

 

“We need talk.”

 

“Agreed.” She sat on the battlements with a piece of jerky in hand as she waited for some sort of questioning related to last night’s antics and soon the silence was broken by just that, “So...you’re Qunari?”

 

“Even a question?”

 

“How did you become Tal-Vashoth?”

 

“Not-! Ugh...listen, I viddathari, there because want to be, why think I left?!”

 

“You’re no agent, what other reason would you have to be at the Conclave?”

 

“Vashedan katoh-qalaba (Foolish glory animal). Tal-Vashoth, or, well, Vashoth. From Kirkwall, convert from nearby tribe. Forgot much common, not much to say, there for two years before shit went south and had no fucking clue.” She paused, looking torn, “I told them, ‘Arishokost ebra sala. Seerkata tost eb na shoh (The Arishok will see to it. That, or everyone dies),’ No warrior but could kill if need; they laugh, Arishok dead.”

 

“Nowhere to return to, only option was to cross sea and that not happening. Years of harassment by fucking city, years of study, only to be held by bunch of idiots that laugh and celebrate as they held their _false_ glory and kept me for fun, left muttering, ‘Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit (It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important.),’ I not want to catch idiocy.

 

"Eventually they took job at Conclave, Itwa-adim (They all fall), took the biggest sword I find, taught be strong, with rage they die; ‘Anaan esaam Qun, nehraa koslun, nehraa kadan (Victory in the Qun, for the sake of the prophet, for my brothers).’ Ben-Hassrath agent found, screaming every profanity knew, but did not kill when I attack, think knew I fucked up; bodies probably pretty telling.

 

"Told him shit I went through, skipped stories about the company dumping ale on my head whenever I spoke Qunlat, how I thorn in side ‘cause it entertaining and that was only reason I alive, just named self. Told me he take me back with him, put in his report then we set off the next day; I fucking ecstatic, I think that only reason he knew I truthful. Then what do ya know? Temple blow sky-high and I come out with shit language skills and teachings of Ariqun, first words come to mind, ‘As-eb vashe-qalab.’ (This is bullshit). Got magic-shit on my hand that mean I never going back, had no choice but to accept fate in saving shit world and wait for this vashedan-bas (Shitty thing) to kill.” She finished, holding up her left hand as she butchered common despite speaking as best she could, being in the city, they’d weaned her off the use of the language to encourage her learning and companionship; now she barely recalled a time she’d used it often.

 

Bull seemed to be taking his time to process all of it before adding one more question, “So, what happened to your hair?”

 

“Saarebas’ friends thought it funny, he did, once red now white; said it, ‘Matched the bitch-marks.’” She recalled bitterly, running a hand through her white hair, the roots already growing in with a contrasting red, “What defransdim (Dick).”

 

“Well...that was a backstory.”

 

“You tell me.”

 

“Though...I can’t wait to see you with red hair, _Tamassran.”_

 

“Noted, _The Iron Bull.”_

 

“Ah, fuck it.”

 

“Good plan.”

 

“Do you want me to report this? I could, it might even help.”

 

“No, time for choosing own life over.” She states somberly before smirking, “Now only choose who to fuck.”

 

“Na'thek (As you wish), kadan.”


	4. Amarina Trevelyan

Amarina’s parents had given her up without a thought. Mage? To the circle you go! She’d barely known her so-called family, spending half of her damned life within stone walls replacing her home city’s with the gallows and chained gates. She spent a good portion of her life in Kirkwall’s Circle simply to be rid of her as the Trevelyans cut ties with their only daughter, even going as far as to send her to a city known for brutality against mages. Arriving at the city had left her dumbfounded and confined to the tower, left to simply think over one of the million things she _must_ have done wrong to possibly deserve such treatment. But her Harrowing came and went and she was still left with no answers, a common trend in that city, and with a shattered heart at the actions taken against her. She was a staple member, never venturing out for adventure or making an attempt to rebel or escape, she merely listened to rumours about the Champion of Kirkwall (whom they even claimed was a mage herself) and sealing off all thoughts of anything memorable possibly being in her life.

 

Rain fell but she did not touch, blood mages recruited but she did not watch nor listen, she was quiet despite a lack of complacency that veered just beneath the surface, and never responded without a cold politeness. Yet, it had still happened... She could remember the night well, being dragged from bed by templars she’d only known to be kind as she’d responded with the same all those times in passing; knowing it must be wearing to continue pleasantries even as they are sworn at by unhappy inmates.

 

“Please, tell me what is happening! I don’t understand!”

 

“I’m sorry.” One responded, smiling back at her with a forced expression that was held by sadness, the other merely looked forward as his shoulders slumped and took her bonds in hand, tugging her forward as she tried to remain calm.

 

“Sorry? For what? Please, you-you’re scaring me!” She whimpered, nearly tripping over her own feet as a door swung open in front of her to reveal more frowning faces of templars as they brought her to her knees, and chained her to central pole. “W-What’s happening?! I don’t understand, I haven’t _done_ anything!”

 

“Amarina Trevelyan, you are to be made Tranquil after being deemed unstable.”

 

 _“What?!”_ She screeched, thrashing with her eyes wide and fearful, “There has to be a mistake! Please, I’ve done nothing but follow the rules, I’ve done my Harrowing! _Please!”_

 

“I’m sorry.” He said as she went limp from the smite.

 

She was sobbing now, hysterically declaring her innocence before slumping down, and looking up with a pleading expression, “I-I won’t understand when I’m...when I’m _that,_ please, tell me I didn’t deserve it, that my family was just talking out their ass! I didn’t deserve it no matter what they said back then, ‘Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him,’ but there is no _fucking_ Maker!” She loudly declared, tears running down her face.

 

“I will.” All she could do was sob as he raised the brand in readiness, and looked away at her horrid scream as it burned her flesh with the mark of the Chantry, a sun burning straight through her mind and banishing outward thoughts along with any magic she may have once held. Her last thought not being why nor how, only her faith disappearing like her personality, and leaving her a husk that was even more hopeless than before.

 

-

 

“Amarina.”

 

“Yes?” She asked, a patient smile on her face as she awaited an order.

 

“You’re to be sent to the Conclave as a representative, this city’s gone to shit since the rebellion, but at least we know _you’re_ not a blood mage in the making; maybe you could convince them Tranquility isn’t so bad.”

 

“I will do my best, First Enchanter.”

 

-

 

She had done her best to follow the new First Enchanter’s orders, telling her tale whilst leaving out things he’d told her were best left unsaid, like the fact she was innocent; turned by Meredith’s whims.

 

“My apologies...what is happening?” The Divine was suspended in the air before she smacked something from her aggressor’s hand she immediately reached for the object, and its green energy seemed to radiate in her hand and...snap something into- or perhaps out of- place. The explosion that ensued was something she never saw as she was overwhelmed by emotion, hitting the ground before the others.

 

-

 

“What?!” She yelped, sitting up immediately before spotting the chains on her wrists, flashbacks about the Rite leaving her panicked as two others came into view.

 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.” She knew who she was without a single thought, both of them and memories not of their own mind came flowing in.

 

“Shit, shit, shit, angry Seeker.” She muttered, cowering as emotions rushed around, and confused her mind, “Divine is dead, I didn’t blow anything up!” Amarina added quickly, trying to control her shallow breaths.

 

“You know what happened, then?”

 

“No...more than what I should, rosebush, a vision from the Maker, Marjolaine...is it true? This isn’t part of me, I’m just a Tranquil! Was...a Tranquil-? We don’t have time for this!” She shouted, overwhelmed by everything she now knew as Cassandra and Leliana glanced at each other before letting her up as she was, once more, reminded of the Rite, holding back her thoughtful mutters of begging to be set free. She rubbed her wrists before spotting what she somehow knew was there, and a threat.

 

“I won’t be able to fix it all, but some can be, less danger.” She said shortly, still completely in over her head about what she’d been seeing, the past, the present, even the future; and it was _fucking_ terrifying. Cassandra took a moment to let the spymaster know about going on ahead before charging after the prisoner, who was moving quickly and pushing back everyone on the bridge before it blew and they both fell. Amarina scurried back, spotting a staff, but finding no magic would come forth as she merely clonked it over the head and dropped the weapon to the ground as the Seeker cut through it. “Useless without magic…” She muttered, along with thanks as she was helped up. They charged forwards, meeting up with a few others that fought as she struggled with her brain to quit its endless flow of information, both looked at her in horror before she even spoke.

 

“It’s okay! Not quite...Tranquil, anymore. Bartrand, red lyrium, not your fault. You! For a man with a name meaning trust...wolves sure do howl.” She said cryptically as they looked on in shock, “Let’s go fuck up the Breach until we can fix it!”

 

-

 

“You know, Varric, this is pretty accurate,” Amarina remarked, reading through the aptly named, ‘All This Shit is Weird.’

 

“What can I say? I aim to please.” He replied with a grin, “Besides, you’re pretty weird yourself.”

 

“Really? Me? A former Tranquil that somehow gained the power to know what was going to happen, and what already did? _No.”_

 

“I’m just glad the Seeker knew how to cure Tranquility, otherwise you really would’ve ended up like the average hero.”

 

“Emotionless?”

 

“Tragically dead.”

 

“Psh, I’d never leave this behind, I’m too attached to all of...this.”

 

“Plus you were really creepy.”

 

“That too, and you have no idea how weird it is to be cured, and then not, then cured _again,_ what a mindfuck.”

 

“That and the first thing you said when you came back was ‘Well, Shit.’”

 

“I aim to please, I just wished the damned power went away.”

 

“Here, here.”


End file.
